


behind ribs and taking part

by viscrael



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (kind of? its not an au at least), Canon Compliant, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, and then some Kissing (tm), at the end there, mostly its just jesse commenting on how beautiful he thinks hanzo is, they go night swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9851939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscrael/pseuds/viscrael
Summary: “Then what do you want?”To anyone else, it might have been taken as rude, or a sign that Hanzo wanted to be left alone. But he’s fully dressed at midnight, with bags under his eyes and a tired hunched to his shoulders. Jesse figures he’s doing him a favor when he asks, “Wanna go swimming with me?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i know very little abt new mexico or deadlock gorge so lets all pretend, if there r continuity errors w/ canon, that those Dont exist. just, like, humor me for a sec pls
> 
> based off a prompt i got on tumb that was mchanzo + night swimming

There was a lake in the city Jesse McCree grew up in, one that became a social hotspot for teenagers getting up to no good and families without real vacation plans. Jesse was never good at swimming, but like most kids his age, he spent his summers there, sun beating down on him while sort-of friends talked about their grocery store jobs or short-term girlfriends or how unfair it was that they had a curfew. It was less a place for swimming and more a place for them to spend their lazy days, drinking stolen beer they didn’t really like and gossiping with people they _almost_ knew.

Still, Jesse has fond memories of that place; it was his hang out, before he joined Deadlock’s gang and even a little bit after, when he wanted a place to be alone, to clear his head or forget about everything. At night—odd hours of the night, when nobody else was around and even the teenagers looking for a place to get into trouble were asleep—he would go there alone. Deadlock Gorge was quiet, but the lake at night was a different quiet, one he couldn’t find anywhere else.

He hasn’t experienced a lake quite like that one before (not that he would want to; there’s only one, and it’s in Deadlock, and that’s not a place he thinks he’s ready to return to yet), but there’s one close enough in Gibraltar. It’s the first thing he noticed when he joined Overwatch, and it’s the thing that catches his attention now.

It’s midnight, or somewhere about. He doesn’t have a watch with him to check, but the base is silent, with only a few stragglers left awake—Angela is probably still in the infirmary, and if she’s awake Fareeha might be too, and Winston has always stayed up later than everyone else. He doesn’t run into any of them when he pulls himself out of his room and tiptoes around the base, but when he passes the infirmary, he hears Angela’s soft voice through the door, clearly talking to someone. She catches his eye through the door’s window, and he tips his hat at her in acknowledgement. It looks like she wants to reprimand him for being up at this hour, but she doesn’t go after him, only nodding back. Other than that, he makes it to his destination without incident.

He knocks at the door once quietly, and then once more for good measure. It takes a few moments, but eventually Hanzo answers, swinging the door open with a scowl already on his face before he realizes who it is. His expression melts into something like surprise, but it’s only for a second; then he’s back to looking annoyed.

“McCree,” he says. He’s still fully dressed, although he’s not wearing his armor. “Is something the matter?”

“No, don’t worry, nothing’s wrong,” Jesse assures.

“Then what do you want?”

To anyone else, it might have been taken as rude, or a sign that Hanzo wanted to be left alone. But he’s fully dressed at midnight, with bags under his eyes and a tired hunched to his shoulders. Jesse figures he’s doing him a favor when he asks, “Wanna go swimming with me?”

 

\--

 

It doesn’t take as much coercing as Jesse thought it would—only a brief explanation, an assurance that it would only be for an hour at most, and then Hanzo is sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose but nodding in answer. He lets Jesse into his room while he goes to change. He says he doesn’t have any swimsuits, but that he probably has something he could use. Jesse waits by the door with his arms crossed over his chest, trying not to look nosy as he examines the room. It’s barely decorated.

Hanzo comes out a few minutes later, wearing the most casual attire Jesse has probably ever seen him in: a t-shirt and shorts. Jesse smiles as Hanzo closes the door behind them, and Hanzo eyes him warily.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jesse shakes his head. “No reason. Just didn’t expect you to agree, ‘s all. Or to come out looking so…” The longer he takes to find the word, the more annoyed Hanzo’s expression gets, so he shrugs and says, “Casual.”

Hanzo huffs and starts down the hallway. Jesse follows. “Well, do not expect this to become a habit of mine.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Although, I can’t say I’d mind seein’ you loosening up more often…”

“I am not sure I would call this ‘loosening up’.”

“Well, that’s a relative thing.”

After a moment, Hanzo seems to realize that he doesn’t know where they’re going. He stops and lets Jesse lead them out of the building, and they fall into silence after that, with Hanzo trailing a few feet behind Jesse as they make their way towards the lake. It’s large, almost twice as big as the one Jesse grew up with, and definitely too big for only two people, but the water is clean and trees frame the bank, casting dark shadows over the surface of the lake. Jesse stops when they’re close enough to it.

“Here we are,” he says, gesturing towards the lake as if Hanzo can’t already see that. Hanzo gives him a look that means he caught on to that too, but Jesse only shrugs, smiles, and begins stripping.

He has his back to Hanzo, but he feels it when the archer jumps. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, gettin’ in?” Jesse stops with his shirt raised halfway off his waist and quirks an eyebrow at Hanzo. “Aren’t you gonna too?”

“I did not realize…” Hanzo stops, frowning, and huffs. He shakes his head, not meeting Jesse’s eye. “Never mind.”

“You sure? Shoot, I can swim in this if you want me to, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything—“

“I am not _uncomfortable_ ,” Hanzo insists, but Jesse doesn’t miss how quickly he says it or how he raises his voice to speak over Jesse. “Just…never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Jesse watches the other for another long moment just to make sure, but Hanzo’s jaw is set and he seems sure of himself, if not still a little jumpy. Eventually, Jesse pulls his shirt off all the way. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

But Hanzo just stands there while Jesse finishes getting undressed. With his pile of clothes sitting in a puddle at the bank, his hat and boots a safe distance from the water’s edge so they won’t get wet, Jesse wades into the water. When he turns around, Hanzo is still only standing there, watching Jesse with a vacant, distracted look, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. The casual outfit really does look nice on him, his tattoo peeking out attractively from the sleeve of his t-shirt, his hair tied up in that small ponytail. The ribbon is missing, the ponytail loose and coming undone; even the obvious exhaustion showing through isn’t enough to make him look bad. The bags under his eyes and downturn of his lips do nothing to take away from the beauty.

Jesse wades further into the water, shivering from the temperature. Luckily, it’s not cold enough to be unpleasant, and he floats near the bank for a few moments, watching Hanzo stand there vacuously.

Finally, Jesse bites the bullet and asks, “Aren’t you gonna get in?”

Hanzo blinks back to the present, his attention on Jesse again. He looks surprised that he’s being asked if he’ll swim, like he hadn’t thought that was part of the deal when he was invited to join Jesse.

“What?” he says eloquently.

Jesse, despite the worry he feels for Hanzo—he’s obviously not doing well, if the exhaustion and vacancy are anything to go by—smiles at the response. “You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, obviously, but I sort of thought when I invited you that I wouldn’t be all alone out here. If I wanted to go night swimming by myself, I wouldn’t’ve come to get ya, right?”

“Oh.”

Another pause. Jesse swims closer to the bank and rests folded arms on dry land. It’s the closest he can get to Hanzo without getting out of the water altogether. “Are you doin’ okay, partner?”

“I am fine.” But like earlier, Jesse doesn’t miss how quickly Hanzo answers.

Jesse, afraid to push it, lets Hanzo believe that he buys that answer. He takes his arms off the bank and pushes backwards, swimming on his back until he’s further into the lake. He floats there, looking up at the sky. It’s pitch black with pinprick stars winking at him. Out here, like in Deadlock Gorge, there are a hundred stars visible for every person, the beauty not diluted by pollution or city lights. Growing up, Jesse hadn’t really appreciated living in the country, but there are things about it now that he’s thankful for. Like clear night skies, for example, or clean lake water.

His eyes fall shut. It’s quiet, the only sounds the ripple of the water when he moves and crickets chirping from the shore, but after a moment he can hear clothes rustling and then another body joining his in the water. Eyes still closed, he smiles.

“You joinin’ me?”

Hanzo wades closer to him. His voice comes from only a few feet to Jesse’s left, a lot closer to him than he thought Hanzo would get. “I suppose I am. There would have been no reason to follow you out here, otherwise.”

“Guess you’re right ‘bout that. Unless you just really liked watchin’ me out here from dry land.”

“I can assure you it is nothing very interesting.”

Jesse laughs, caught off guard. “Ya wound me, Shimada.” He opens his eyes and stops floating on his back, turning to find Hanzo. They’re far enough away from the shore that both of them have to keep themselves afloat instead of just standing in the water, and Hanzo wades like he isn’t quite sure what else to do. Jesse notices the lack of clothing.

“You stripped,” Jesse comments.

“Yes?” Hanzo says, like he isn’t sure why Jesse’s pointing it out.

“Just thought you seemed against the idea,” Jesse says, shrugging. He could say more, but Hanzo looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he keeps it at that. Jesse catches a glimpse of Hanzo’s tattoo, only the top of his shoulder visible this far in the water. The blue ink glows under the moon.

Jesse takes a deep breath and dives under the water abruptly. He pops back up a second later, slicking his hair back out of his face, and is met with Hanzo’s face twisted up in a frown. Jesse realizes he splashed him going under at the same moment that Hanzo goes under, too, with much more force than is probably necessary—and the force of it gets Jesse wet.

He laughs and, although he knows Hanzo can’t hear him, complains, “Well, that was just plain _childish_.” But he follows Hanzo underwater a moment later, anyway.

It’s just as dark underwater as it is above—even darker, actually, without the moon there to provide the smallest bit of lighting, but when Jesse opens his eyes he can discern the outline of Hanzo. They float next to each other, suspended there, and at the bottom of the lake nothing else exists, except this, and them. Hanzo’s ponytail hovers around his head like a miniature cloud of black ink, tapering where his hairband holds everything together. The only thing Jesse can see clearly is that blue tattoo, glowing even in the dark. He wonders, were they alone in Jesse’s room, all lights blown out, surrounded by bedsheets and comforters, if Hanzo’s tattoo would glow there, too.

Hanzo resurfaces first; Jesse follows. Above water, Hanzo tries to slick his hair back and ends up with his ponytail holder tangled in his hair, hissing as he tries in vain to yank it out.

“Whoa, hey, stop,” Jesse says, swimming towards him. “You’re gonna go bald tuggin’ at it like that. Lemme help.”

“I do not need your help.”

Jesse smiles. “If you say so. But I’d sure like it if you’d let me. Can I? I promise I won’t hurt ya.”

Hanzo looks at him for a moment, as if he’s not a hundred percent sure he can really trust Jesse not to hurt him. Jesse offers a quieter smile, and that seems to do something; Hanzo’s shoulders drop, his expression softens, and he lowers his hands down from his hair, turning around. Jesse swims closer to the bank so they can stand as he does this, and Hanzo follows without saying anything.

Now that he doesn’t have to keep himself afloat the whole time, Jesse takes the hairband in hand and starts at pulling it out, careful not to tug at Hanzo’s scalp. He holds the end of Hanzo’s hair with one hand and moves the hairband down with the other, guiding it out an inch at a time. Water gathers at the end of Hanzo’s ponytail and drips onto Jesse’s prosthetic. In the dark, the silver in Hanzo’s hair shines more prominently.

“Does it ever get annoying, keepin’ your hair like this?” Jesse asks.

Hanzo’s shoulders roll back. “What do you mean?”

“Ya know, keepin’ it long enough to put up all the time. Wouldn’t it be easier just to keep it short?”

“Yours is just as long as mine,” Hanzo says. “The only difference is that you keep it back in that ridiculous hat during battle.”

Jesse laughs. “I guess you got me there. Is it really as long as mine, though? Seems longer to me.” But even as he says it, he realizes that he’s never actually seen Hanzo with his hair down.

“You will find out in a moment,” Hanzo mumbles, right before Jesse finally slides the hairband all the way out. Hanzo was right; it is about the same length as Jesse’s, now that Jesse actually looks at it. He holds the hairband out over Hanzo’s shoulder, and Hanzo takes it with a soft _thank you_.

“Any time,” Jesse says, and he doesn’t think there’s any way for Hanzo to know how much he means that. There’s a moment, then, when Hanzo has turned to look at him again, and they’re only standing there in the water facing each other, and it must be nearing one A.M. now, and Hanzo looks just as good with his hair down as he had in a t-shirt, and his tattoo glows even brighter, somehow, than it had when they first got out here, and Jesse moves forward at the same time that Hanzo does.

It’s a short kiss. When Jesse pulls away, he doesn’t waste time before moving to trail kisses along Hanzo’s jaw, pressing his lips over stubble and tickling his own face when he rubs against Hanzo’s beard on accident, and Hanzo’s hands go to Jesse’s bare chest. His skin is warm, so warm, and maybe it’s just the cold water that’s making the contrast so intense, but Jesse can’t say he minds it.

“Jesse,” Hanzo says, and it’s one of the only times Jesse has heard his _name_ —his real name, not just “McCree”—leave Hanzo’s mouth, and the sound of it catches him so off guard that he has to suppress a shiver. Hanzo tilts his head to the side and catches Jesse’s mouth in another kiss, stealing him away from the kisses he’d been peppering on Hanzo’s cheek, and this one is definitely longer than the first.

 

\--

 

Jesse doesn’t know how long they sit out there in the lake, pressed against each other like teenagers without experience or soldiers about to go to war, kissing with the fervor of both but living as neither. They will wake up tomorrow, Jesse knows; he could ask Hanzo to accompany him back to his room, and they would wake up tomorrow, and things would be different but they would have time. With Overwatch not on hiatus, but pausing between missions to figure out a game plan, they would have time.

This knowledge doesn’t stop him from kissing Hanzo like they don’t.

 

\--

 

They don’t return to Hanzo’s room until sunrise.

  

**Author's Note:**

> implied sexy times @ the end there? truly, who knows


End file.
